


Sellout

by kuonji



Category: C6D - Fandom, Trigger (2010)
Genre: Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-15
Updated: 2011-10-15
Packaged: 2017-10-24 15:29:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/265063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuonji/pseuds/kuonji
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>She'd started calling him 'Bill' when he made agent. She'd thought he would appreciate the token of... respect. Dignity. Whatever. She wished she hadn't, because everyone else still called him Billy.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sellout

**Author's Note:**

> Alternative Links:  
> <http://kuonji14.livejournal.com/47034.html>

The show had sold out. It was 'only' a benefit, of course, but it always felt better to have a big audience cheering and dancing and singing and getting shitfaced along with the assholes on stage. It made for better pictures, too, and she'd have to bring _something_ back to show the rest of the board and all the contributors to the project.

By the time they got there, the party was already hopping. She had to find the manager to get them in.

Despite her prior objections, Vic seemed not unhappy to be here. Kat was so glad. Maybe this was stupid, wearing an old T-shirt and goofing around the way she'd used to and talking (arguing) with Vic about love and spirituality and all that crap they'd used to sing about and believe in. But it was something, wasn't it? She almost felt alive again.

They edged into the side room party, bewildered by how many new faces were around, and also by how many of the old. Kat caught a few faint smiles of hey-remember-the-days recognition but a lot more looks of disdain or plain indifference. It was okay, though, because Vic had agreed to come.

Kat never felt alone when Vic was with her. Without Vic there, though, she always felt alone. It didn't make any sense, but there it was. It was like that old joke: "Where was the Queen when she blew out the candle?"

She was always in the dark.

"If this is a tribe, then you are the chief!"

Before she'd properly realized what was happening, Vic was embracing a man Kat hadn't expected to see here. It was awfully far from Florida and a lot colder.

"That Billy is such a sellout," Vic had used to rant, lying on her back with her feet up against the wall, listening to Hard Core Logo CDs together. "Hard Core Logo was _gold_. It was _diamonds_. And he pisses all that away by joining some crap Hollywood band. What kind of name is Jenifur, for god's sake?"

"I heard they're not bad. And it's good money." Kat hadn't had any big opinions either way. Hard Core Logo had broken up ages ago and Joe Dick was _dead_. Who cared?

"Sellout," Vic repeated.

But when they met again, at Joe's five-year memorial/party/excuse-to-get-fucked-up, Vic was back to, "Oh, _Billy_! It's so good to _see_ you! What have you been _up_ to, you asshole?"

Just like she was doing now.

It felt like an hour before the two of them seemed to even remember that Kat was there.

"Hi, Kat," he said, reserved but at least not hostile.

"Hi, Bill," she answered, in the same way.

She'd started calling him 'Bill' when he made agent. She'd thought he would appreciate the token of... respect. Dignity. Whatever. She wished she hadn't, because everyone else still called him Billy. He was still part of the 'tribe', the way Kat no longer was.

He played golf, but for some reason people laughed about it instead of giving him shit. She wondered if he ate quail, too. Maybe the difference was, Bill was the sort of person who, if he did eat quail where someone could see him, would order a dozen at a time and share them with a hot tub full of Vegas hookers. And that? That was acceptable. That was still rock and roll.

Kat escaped from the conversation as soon as she had the chance. She found a spot on the sidelines to wait for Vic, only half-expecting her to show.

She did.

Vic was in a good mood, which was amazing, and she should have taken advantage of that, should have appreciated it, reveled in it. But all she wanted to do was to _bitch_ and let out some of the stupid frustration she had over this stupid half-baked plan (if it could even be called that) of hers and how it was working but at the same time _not_. She didn't feel any different than she had a few hours ago and that--

That made her feel a thousand times worse.

None of the people here even cared about her, she realized. Nobody except Vic knew her at all. And honestly, it had always been this way, hadn't it? She just hadn't noticed through the haze of alcohol and the high of music that probably contributed to the early onset deafness her last physical had picked up.

Rock and roll people didn't have friends. They had a series of buddies. Riff buddies. Crack buddies. Drinking buddies. Fuck buddies.

And hell, Vic probably wouldn't want anything to do with her anymore either if (when?) she found out what the fuck Kat had done.

By the time she took the stage with 'Foxfire' (what was that, a fantasy game? wasn't the point of a rock and roll band name to be as stupid as possible?), she just wanted to get it done and get out.

So she was a little surprised when she saw Bill in the crowd. He met her eye and gave her a solid Look. A look like, "We're good. Come on. I know you. Do it."

One sellout to another.

The crowd didn't care. They were excited, cheering for her. For Trigger. They might have cheered for anyone at that time of night. Kat kept coming back to Bill's face in the crowd, like an anchor.

Halfway through the song, she saw his gaze shift to behind her and stage right. She glanced back herself and-- Vic was waving, was dropping their coats, was picking up a guitar!

Vic's voice coming out of the speakers was what finally convinced her it was real. She felt a surge of triumph. She knew it. She'd known Vic would never be able to resist being Trigger again. With her. This was what they (she) had been missing, this connection, this fire.

It wasn't until she was thanking the audience that she noticed that Billy had gone. He wasn't where he'd been standing. He wasn't anywhere in the room that she could see. She didn't care.

She snatched up the coat and the $850 sweater and ran after Vic.

  
END.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this story, you might try these:  
> [Show Time](http://kuonji14.livejournal.com/41820.html) (Due South), by kuonji  
> [Faith](http://kuonji14.livejournal.com/46367.html) (The X-Files: I Want To Believe), by kuonji  
> [And When It Comes To Her](http://archiveofourown.org/works/231272) (Trigger), by theleaveswant


End file.
